Guilty Simpson
Fruit Punch
Verse 1: Guilty Simpson
I hear a lot of false prophecies, about a lotta emcees
Philosophies about these fake Socrates
Not to be a hater, but he ain't the savior
I got too many layers, the games got way too many players
So I slay another rapper, and put 'em on the mantle
You lookin' but I'm on another channel
Watchin' these sambos puttin' on a show for their handlers
Lyin' to the people for the cameras
Amateur night, these clowns can't damage a mic
So I'm breakin' off the hand that they write with
I might sh*t, real weed here takes flight with
The price gets better when you bring more cheddar
I fight clips, with the strength of the men
I'm pissin'' from the ? to the ?, so send 'em in
Your style is cinnamon
Way to sweet for the streets to be listening' in Michigan
Hook 1: The Rockness Monstah
Hey you a b*tch ni**a
That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word)
You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as
I can't mix wicha, you and your inner bitcha
Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a
Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a
You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh)
I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as
Verse 2: The Rockness Montsah
Rock not the LL Cool J "I need Love"
More like the LL, smoke two J's, I need drugs
Addict behavior, ran out & I'm agg-ravated
Y'all rappin' this lame shit, I feel like clappin' the stage up
No applause and no remorse for rappers that's claimin' they got bars
No dem is bras. I laugh in their faces. bitch boy
F*ck u threw some D's on it? Rich Boy
How those pants tight & they saggin' you sh*t in your draws, didn't you?
I will make you break dance on your face scrams
Capoeira, slap you hella hard, probably sprain my hand (splocka)
You snakes can't hide in my grass
Ain't no grass in the PJs, I smoke mine in a wrap
I don't drink fruit ni**a I punch fruits
Put' generations of little bangers through huntin' school
I don't wanna do sh*t wicha
Ol' Lifetime channel watchin' butter milk bath takin' b*tch ni**a
Hook 2: The Rockness Monstah
Hey you a b*tch ni**a
That's right I said it, you a b*tch ni**a (word)
You be runnin' round with all types of snitch ni**as
I can't mix wicha, you and your inner bitcha
Yah you, you a b*tch ni**a
Fat b*tch a** ni**a, rub on ya' t*ts ni**a
You one of them side switch ni**as (uh huh, uh huh)
I can't mix wicha b*tch ni**as